


The Courting of Eliza Schuyler and Her Sister's Anguish

by GrowingTheEmpire



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 07:58:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6603049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrowingTheEmpire/pseuds/GrowingTheEmpire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As told through the ages, through poetry and literature, it seemed as if the only man she wanted was the only man she could not have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Courting of Eliza Schuyler and Her Sister's Anguish

 

The room was filled to the brim and dazzling- a hundred bright young ladies and a hundred more brighter soldiers were in full swing, and Alex pushed through the crowds.  His boys were behind him- shaking off the snow on their shoulders and leaving their coats behind with the doormen. The hall was sparsely decorated, with the exception of the glowing candles lining the room. There was a worker in the corner pouring many drinks, courtesy of General Schuyler. A single American flag- brilliant red, white, and blue hung from the middle of the ceiling. 

Mulligan pushed past Alex to get his attention, then pointed to the fairest woman in the room- the General’s daughter, Miss Angelica Schuyler. Well-known and incredibly intelligent, and known to carry herself with impeccable prestige- Angelica danced with a soldier with sure steps and looked positively bored with the slow conversation the infantrymen offered. “Score that one- Hamilton, and I’ll know my place. Highly beautiful-” 

“And highly unattainable,” Laurens offered, throwing his arms around Alexander and the Marquis.  


Alex cocked one eyebrow and looked to his brothers in arms. “As a maiden of her status should be- they shouldn’t be held to the normal and ordinary expectations you must be used to, Mulligan.” He patted the Marquis on the shoulder and said, “Have a drink for me, monsieur. I’ll see you tomorrow.”  And as he strode away, he smirked, leaving the boys laughing and jumping on each other- headed to the drinks table.  


Miss Angelica was radiant in the lighting- her frock a pale pink, bringing out the girlish flush in her cheeks. She must have been just short of eighteen, yet she carried herself in a mature fashion- as if she was already a woman. Her dark hair was tied up into delicate braids and strands, framing her delicate face like mahogany around a master painting, concise, deliberate and careful. She was watching the room- a moment alone after an elaborate dance.  


“Fine evening, Miss Schuyler.”  He bowed, bringing her petite hand to kiss.  


“It is a pleasant night, isn’t it?” She drew her hand away, and Alexander met her eyes. They were lit with amusement and interest. “And what do I owe the pleasure, Mister..?”  


“Hamilton. Alexander Hamilton. I am at your service.” He said, lowering his eyes, still playing the game.  


Angelica grinned and mused, “And I was here thinking you must fancy a dance, a gallant like you, but I suppose not.” 

“If that simple request would be a sin then I am guilty.” He shot her a smile and queried “Do you know this one?”  


She raised her eyebrows, and said, “I do in fact. Shall we?” She took his hand and he pulled her into the form for the dance, pulling just closer than any of the other men would attempt. Angelica knows of his reputation- a hotheaded firebrand, George Washington’s chief of staff, yet rushes into battle as if he had a deathwish. Yes, she has heard of him. “Mr. Hamilton-”  


“I beg you, all my companions call me Alexander. It would be a tragedy for you not to follow suit,” He pulled her further into the crowd, as the band played loudly and upbeat- his steps as confident as her own- a perfect matched pair.  


“Would it now?” She countered. The conversation being a game of chess, each other sizing the opposite up. Angelica always loved some fair competition when she could get her hands on it.  “Where is your family from, Alexander?”  


And check. Alexander faltered for a moment, so swift that one not paying deep attention wouldn’t have caught the hesitation. She felt it in the grip of his hands- the curious sudden caution in his stature. Yet as she looked in his eyes- a handsome deep blue- she saw not the fire from earlier. For just a split second, Angelica saw a notion deeper than his surface- she saw a clandestine shame. “We are not of here, if that is what your question is insinuating.” Alexander said shortly.  That was not what the question begged- it was a straight query-  _ are you wealthy? Should I bother with even looking at you?  _ And yet him avoiding the topic gave her all the information she needed. He turned her abruptly with the music.   


It took Angelica half a second to analyze Alexander, determine his character, his wealth- his past. She might be fuzzy in some details- but she knew what kind of man Alexander Hamilton was. It also took Angelica the rest of the second to feel that it didn’t faze her feelings she was having. It took half a second to feel the longing- to acknowledge that this man, this soldier in front of her was her equal and true match. It took half a second to become completely confused on what to do with the next hour, the next hour that will become pivotal in her life. A turning point.    


“You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied- Miss Angelica.” He said, watching the room, and placed his hands lower on her hip.  


"I am sure I do not know what you mean,” She wavered. “You forget yourself.”  


“This makes us one in the same, Miss Schuyler, never satisfied with what we possess- and we will always reach for more.” Alexander smirked, and turned her around, letting the dress flare in a spectacular manner.    


“Is that so?” Angelica regained her cool.  


“I have never been satisfied.” The song ended, and lead into a waltz- with long siren strings, and the piano playing tragic chords, and the ballroom seemed to clear the path for Angelica to see her sister across the ballroom. Yet her sister was not looking at Angelica- she was admiring her dance partner. It was then she knew what to do, because the situation was fraught in front of her. One side of the flowing river of the opportunity of Alexander was for herself. Her family would never approve- a man without status or a name- or money either. It was always clear for her that she was to marry up in society, an unspoken rule yet just as prominent if not more. It would be hard- but this man, now holding her close as he would hold a wife on the dancefloor, would make it work, the drive- the passion.  


And on the other side. Alexander strides out of her life just as he came in. Never to be seen again- leaving with Angelica with heart panging and the feeling of unease- even at rest. He was a soldier- and one thing that they are very skilled at in coming and going.  


Yet, as she gazed on her sister watching Alexander- she found a solution. Elizabeth was the kindest person Angelica had the pleasure of knowing. Eliza was her closest sister, confidante, childhood friend.  At that moment-  she knew Eliza’s fate. Before the year is over- once the cold has broke and warmed their estate, Alexander will stand in a church and lift a veil, and press kisses into his new wife. Under that veil will be Eliza, soft in every way that Angelica is not. She is naive, but all the better. She will go her whole life not realizing Alex’s true intentions- to get wealthy and gain status through her courtship.  


The dance ended, and Alex detached from Angelica. “Shall we get a drink?” He asked, delicate lips curled into a smile.  


“No, I need to show you something.” She said. ”I am about to change your life.” Angelica affirmed, grabbing his hand.  


“Then by all means, lead the way.” He responded. Angelica lead him through the crowd pushing and apologizing as they went on. They approached Eliza, Alexander staring at his companion quizzically. Yet- the girl in front that was present in front of him, was beautiful. To Angelica’s screaming beauty and grace- this girl was the same sentence yet delicately whispered. She was wearing a mint colored gown, complimenting her dark features. But the first thing Alexander noticed were her deep black eyes. Where Angelica’s eye revealed her maturity and intelligence- this maid’s eyes were brightened with childlike curiosity. She bowed to him, “Elizabeth Schuyler, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”  


“Schuyler?” He asked Angelica, but suddenly tying the connections between the two women.  


“My sister,” she replied, smiling.  


“Thank you for all of you service,” Elizabeth said offering her hand. He took it, and glanced back at Angelica, who was backing back into the crowd, taking the hand of another soldier and stepping out of the picture. An understanding of his purpose redirected him back to Elizabeth, and the loss of Angelica was pushed back the farthest reaches of his mind.  


Alex got on a knee, and kissed her hand. “If it takes fighting a war for us to have met- It will have been worth it.” The line brought flush to the girl’s cream complexion.  


“Shall we dance?” She asked. Every small movement she made- it was a flurry of excitement.  


“I would be honored.” She took his hand, gentle and guiding, and brought him to the dancefloor, slowly swinging with the movement. He gazed upon this girl, certainly special. She avoided visual contact like the person would avoid the plague. He tipped her head towards him, her black eyes catching the light, and she smiled shyly. “What could your mind possibly be occupied with at such a nice moment in time right now?” He asked her gently.  


“The fortune of being with you here tonight- and the misfortune of you parting with me tonight and the plight of tomorrow.” She lilted, stepping lightly. “And the perilous possibility that you will not express my same concerns,  and evade into the night and into battle without a second whim or thought to me.”  


Alexander held her hands in dance firmly, and pulled her closer. “Miss Schuyler, just a moment ago- my vision was inevitably changed for all the better. Do not fret yourself with untrue thoughts. As soon as I return to Amboy, I will write a letter at once, and send it off to this estate.” He thought for a moment. “Let us enjoy tonight- and we will fret the future consequences in the days ahead of us as you are too fair to let this opportunity go to waste.”  


And they danced- pressed close, and enjoyed wine. The couple sat in a spare room, evading the humid ballroom and told each other of their times- each finding fascination in the differences. He found himself asking questions just to hear the charmer’s words pour out sweet. She was not above finding her own self humorous, and had no trouble laughing with glee at Hamilton- as he spilled his drink, or stepped on ladies’ toes in the crowd. And at the end of the night- as his brothers in arms came to recollect him and make their way back to camp- he pressed a kiss on Eliza’s hand that would linger for the next week. She sent him off with a smile and a promise to write.  


-

In the coming days- Eliza would scan each new letter that came in for her sweetheart’s name, distraught and helpless in love. And when the quarter boy handed her a letter with beautiful script titled  _ To my Betsey~ _ she squealed with joy and ran up to her chambers, slamming the heavy door behind her and ripped open the envelope, sealed with red wax with the mark of the rebels stamped into it.   


Her eyes widened as she read the words professing love- and gasped as he talked of the dangers of his conditions. Her fingers traced his beautiful script, feeling the ease it took for him to write the love-inflicting words, dripping with praise of every quality she was not aware she had. Eternally overshadowed by Angelica’s charms- Eliza felt a sense of pride that a man was finally hers, his first choice, the object of his pining heart.  


It was filled with humour and admiration, and he wrote to her not to concern her of his safety, and yet as she read- the bottom of her chest filled with the dread of war. It was all too common to see women younger than twenty covered in a dismal shroud for their deceased sweethearts. On her vanity- sat a embellished mirror. She pulled it to her face and stared at herself, a changed lady- and envisioned two kinds of veils- one a white, blissful veil of marriage and fidelity. And the other- the most formidable, a veil to lock her in depression of a lost lover. 

“You need to be careful with that one, love.” Angelica said from the doorway. Eliza folded the letter with haste and held it behind her back, and faced her sister. “Alexander Hamilton- he will do what it takes to survive by all means.” 

Eliza turned away. “As long as he survives, my dear sister.” Her single request. Her new will.  


“He has a reputation of being selfless on the field of war.” Angelica said coldly. “To the point of ignorance.”  


“He’s a patriot.” Eliza defended. “What does it matter to you?”  


Angelica sighed and folded her hands over her chest “You do not know him to much extent. I am just encouraging precaution when the matter comes to that man. I care too much for you to let you fall to naivety and ignorance. You know not-”  


“I know of the extent his fondness for me.” Eliza cut short. “And with him, that is all the matters to me.” Eliza’s eyes were fixed to the letter in front of her, an open invitation to her future, her future husband, children, livelihood.  


Angelica went to Eliza, placing her warm hands on her sister’s shoulders. “He is charismatic, is he not?” Eliza smiled and leaned into her sister’s touch.  


“He certainly is. This is one of the most eloquent letters I have ever seen.” She placed the letter on the vanity. “I will be embarrassed when I attempt a proper reply. My script is even shaky and basic compared to the flow of his.” Still, she pulled a sheet of parchment from the vanities drawer- and retrieved a quill and small inkwell.  


“I’ll dictate it for you, if you want to make a elegant first impression.” Angelica suggested, sitting on the vanity bench with her lovestruck sister.  


She bit the tip of the quill, and disagreed. “No, if  I am to be his betrothed then he must know my penmanship.” She waved Angelica away. “I will meet you for dinner.”  


“Very well. See you then.” Angelica said, through pursed lips.  


She stepped out of the room and let the door shut. She heard a flurry of writing- excited and energized by the prospect of young love. Angelica felt a green wave of jealousy overcome her, as she pressed close to her sister’s chambers. The sweet notes that were ahead of Eliza, rightfully belonged to her . And yet- she did not regret what she has done. With Hamilton, Eliza will experience hardships as the wife of a poor man. She would be anchored to New York City, and no change to experience the wonders of Europe.  How could Alexander switch from her to Elizabeth so quickly? She knew the answer, the fact of mutual understanding, and tried to remind herself of that acknowledgement in his eyes as their gaze met when he took Eliza to the dancefloor. She shook her head to herself. He was a step ahead, from the start. 

So resigned to her woe - she went down to her own chambers, further east in the manor, and romanticised the possibilities of Alexander and his arrogant step and thoughtful tone. And when she met Eliza in the dining room, she greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and an inside surrender, unspoken between the girls.  


  


-

“Do you not have a sweetheart to write to, instead of menacing me?” Laurens spat from his bunk. Alex laughed, and still tossed a stone at him from the opposite side of the tent. “Bah- just leave me be- I beg you.”  


“My dear Laurens, what if I need your counsel in the night? What if the redcoats come over the hill at dawn and I cannot rouse you from your deathlike slumber?” He amiably pondered, yet it was not a joking matter- and Laurens was not amused. Laurens turned away from him and pulled his blanket over his head. “Ah-my tent. It appears to me as if we are alone together. You, me, and Miss Schuyler’s black eyes in the back of my mind.” He dipped his quill in the ink, and blew off the dripping excess. He carefully scripted the letter to the woman of his heart. And when he finished, wishing his heart adieu, he thought about another letter he thought was overdue. He pulled off another piece of parchment, and wrote to another exquisite woman.  


-

  


“It’s from Mr. Hamilton, Miss.” The quarter boy said, thrusting the letter to Angelica. 

“Well then, give it to Elizabeth. Do not bother me again unless you have something for me.” She turned aside, but the boy grabbed her sleeve.  


“It’s not addressed to Miss Elizabeth. It’s for you.” He said. Angelica grabbed the letter from him quickly, and bent to his level.  


“You tell no one of the existence of this letter- you hear, boy?” She gestured to the letter. “My sister included. Especially my sister.”  The boy nodded and she ran up the staircase, flying to her room and shut the door. In the letter was not love explicit- Hamilton addressed her quietly, and talked of her acquaintance Kitty Livingston, and of politics- as if he making small talk with a childhood friend.  


And at the bottom of letter was written his goodbyes, to  _ ma chere, forever I am yours _ . Her heart burned inside her chest, sending heat through her throat and causing her palms to sweat. But again- her principles overcame all desire for Alexander, and she ripped the letter and tossed it in the open flame of her hearth.  As told through the ages, through poetry and literature, it seemed as if the only man she wanted was the only man she could not have. But in her heart- Angelica found that her loyalties lie most for her sister. As Elizabeth was the most true woman that she knew of, and she knew Eliza more than her own mind. She thought of the quick wit of Alexander- the sure step and confidence in which he danced, and the falter he had when she untactfully asked of his family name, and she watched the letter shrivel to black ash- as dark as her sister’s shining eyes.   


Angelica closed the door and stepped into the hall, seeing Eliza embraced their father, holding in hand a letter with red wax dripping. She heard her father ask of what she knew of Hamilton- and if she felt he was worthy enough for marriage. Within the next month he would be visiting and taking Eliza back with him, as a wife. Angelica smiled in spite of herself- and kissed her sister on the apple of her cheek.  


And then she took a quill and wrote greetings to Alexander. She wrote with the same familiar tone he used in his letter, and addressing at the end, she wrote,  _ to my future brother, with my dear Eliza- may you always be satisfied. _   


_ - _   


THE END. 


End file.
